Cameron Morgan: Chameleon Extroadinaire
by luvin'-music
Summary: <html><head></head>Cammie is gone, searching for answers. What happens when the ones she loves tries to find her? Is she really the reason they're in danger? And why does the Circle want her so much? Rated T for violence. NO LONGER IN PROGRESS!</html>
1. Haunted Houses Make Crappy HideOuts

**Here's my edited version. I re-read the other one and was like, 'Ick!' so I redid it. Hope you guys like it!**

**Disclaimer: In case you haven't already figured it out, I do not own Gallagher Girl or all that implies. I do, however, own this pillow! XD**

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><p>I sat in the cold, damp room, the sound of water dripping from the ceiling filling the silence. Not the type of home a person would dream for, but plenty for a spy on the run. The house was an old, abandoned place on top of a hill, something like a haunted house that would only be visited on a dare. Not exactly my best hiding place, but it was enough for now. At least until I could get a hold of some proper money.<p>

Sighing, I lay back on the old, creaking bed, putting my hands behind my head. A rat scurried across the floor, running into its little hole and disappearing, leaving little crumbs from some trash it carried in its wake. My stomach churned. This was definitely not what I had hoped for when I ran away, but honestly, what was I expecting? Some big hot-shot hotel with butlers and people bending at my every will?

Taking a deep breath, I held it before slowly letting it out. I honestly don't know what I was expecting. All I was hoping for was some way to find answers, some way to be sure that I was keeping everyone safe. If that meant I had to sit in some crappish house with no water source or functioning utilities, so be it. As long as it kept my loved ones safe. My mom safe.

I choked as I thought about her. After a week, I still couldn't believe that I had left her to wonder if I was even alive. So many times, I had been tempted to call her up, tell her I was okay, that I was alive. But that would mean that she would find some way to track me, convincing me to come back, put them in danger again. So I held back, risking my life instead of all of theirs. Absentmindedly, I wondered if she was looking for me. If she was pushing everyone to find me, calling all of her contacts to form a look-out, seeing if they could find me. I bet she was. It made me feel all the worse.

But Zach was right. It was the only way to keep them all safe.

Zach. I shook my head, shaking the image of him away. I couldn't think about him right now. He was the one that really put this thought into my head in the first place. I wonder if he regrets it? Is he looking for me right now? I hadn't seen him, has he found away to bi-pass even my trained eyes? I quickly dismissed the thought. I had been careful. I had counted surveillance, ran whenever they got too close. I had blended in. There was no way Zach could find me now.

No one could ever find me now.

Rolling over, I looked at the grimy clock on the wall, covered with dust and soot from years of neglect. It was eternally stuck at six o' two, never ticking, never growing. Not for the first time, I wondered how it got left there, broken like that all these years. How all of this was left behind, as if someone had just up and left, not bothering to take anything with them. Were they spies, too? Or were there actually ghosts, haunting this place every night, chasing away visitors and eating away their flesh?

I had to get out of here before I called the Ghostbusters or something.

Standing from the creaky bed, I grabbed my backpack, going through my small amount of belongings. Buried beneath my clothes and my make-up-kit-with-a-kick (Liz made it a while back. Let's just say you don't want to apply this stuff directly to skin) was my father's notebook, its torn cover staring up at me. I had read it everyday since my disappearance, learning more about my father and Mr. Solomon's friendship. According to this, dad had actually really trusted Mr. S, trying to help him take down the Blackthorne Institute for boys. They had been together through it all, especially when he met mom. Little did I know it had actually been Mr. Solomon who had introduced them, when he was calling her up on a lead. Apparently, from the first time dad laid eyes on her, he was hooked. So cute. And when they got married, Joe was his best man, standing there and watching as they became man and wife. They were like best friends.

So what had happened?

Shutting the journal, I sat back on the bed, feeling as tired and confused as I always did after reading the journal. I had been away from the Gallagher Academy for Exceptional Young Women for a week now, and I still wasn't any closer to finding any answers. All I wanted to do was fall asleep and dream, hoping that through my subconsciousness I would find some answers.

Closing my eyes, I fell asleep, hoping for some helpful information as my brain sorted out all the details.

What I found instead surprised the bejebors out of me.

"Gallagher Girl," was the first two words my dreams met me with. "Come back."

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><p><strong>That's all for now! I hope you guys like it! <strong>


	2. Burglars And Makeup

**Here is another chapter! Hope you guys like it! **

**Disclaimer: Obviously, I don't own Gallagher Girls. **

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><p>I awoke in a cold sweat, the hair on the back of my neck standing on end. Someone was here. In the middle of the night. Where I am in hiding from psychopath killers called the Circle.<p>

Not good.

I jumped out of bed, wincing at the creak that was inevitable. Tip-toeing, I walked toward the window, looking through the grime to the sight of two people, both wearing black, sneaking into the house.

'Not good' was an understatement.

I turned back from the window, grabbing my make-up-kit-with-a-kick from my bag and unzipping it, grabbing the lip gloss. Pulling on a glove, I opened the container and rubbed my finger against the gel, already feeling the affects burn through my glove. Quickly, I ran toward the strangers, then, being a chameleon, I stepped out, hiding in the open.

The men looked at me, eyes wide. Were they not expecting me to be here? Or were they just surprised I came out so quickly? I didn't take long to wonder before running to the lead guy, grabbing him with my glove. "Help me!" I squealed smearing it on his hands, his face. "You have to help me! My friends brought me here on a dare, and I think it's actually haunted! Please, you have to-"

"Ahh!" the lead guy screamed, wiping at his face where I touched him. "What's wrong with you? My face is burning! Ah!" He smacked himself, which only made it worse.

"What's wrong, Pete?" the other guy said, going to grab his arm, pull him together. "She just touched you, man."

"It burns!" he shouted, wiping at his hands, his face. His eyes were watering, tears falling from his face. "It freaking burns!"

"It was just a touch!" I said, taking off my gloves and dropping the container in the grass. "I told you this place was haunted! I told you! It.. It cursed my lip gloss!"

"Let me see that," the second one said, reaching down to grab my lip gloss. He sniffed it, then touched it, placing it on his lips. This definitely _wasn't _the FBI or CIA; they weren't this stupid. "See, it's just normal lip gloss. No need to wo-" He was cut off by his own screams, dropping the container in the dirt. Immediately, he wiped his mouth, using his spit to try to wash it off. Which, according to Liz, will only make the burning worse. "What did you _do _to this stuff?" he shouted at me, his eyes wide and teary, like his friend's.

It took all of my willpower not to laugh at their stupidity. "I didn't do anything! It's this house! This stupid house cursed my make-up!" I reached down, grabbing my sleeve and revealing a scab from my wrist to my elbow that I had received after falling on the pavement after running from a tail. (I know, it takes a whole new meaning to 'pavement artist', don't rub it in.) Fortunately, these guys didn't know this. "Look what my blush did to my arm!" I showed them dramatically. "I put it on my arm because my friend told me to! She said the same things happened to her! Oh, why didn't I listen? Why did I take this stupid dare?" I questioned, looking defeated and upset at myself for being so incredibly dumb. Inside, I was trying not to laugh. Good pick-me-up for an otherwise crappy week.

"Dude, you never told me this place was haunted!" the lead guy said, his face red and swollen from his makeover.

"I didn't know it was!" he said, his lips swollen and bleeding. He turned to me. "Look, we're burglars, okay? We crash here sometimes, when the cops are after us. We didn't know you were here! Could you just p-" He winced as his lips touched together. "-lease just tell us how to get this stuff off! It hurts!"

I tried to look panicked, like I couldn't remember. "Well, my friend told me that to wash it off, you have to use something... Soap and water! That's it, just soap and water!" Which was completely true. Liz wanted to make something dangerous, but easily washable, in case we accidentally used it on the wrong person. "Use soap and water, then put Neosporin on it and patch it up everyday until the swelling is down. If it gets too bad, then go to the doctor, and see what's up." I can't believe I remembered all of this.

"What about you?" the lead guy asked, already backing away. "Will you be okay?"

"I still have to finish the dare!" I said incredulously, as if it were the most important thing in the world. "If I don't, then I have to strip in front of the _whole school!_ I'm _not _doing that!" I crossed my arms, looking stubborn.

The guy shrugged, then ran away, his friend close behind. They would get better, and everything would be back to normal.

At least, that what I assumed. Because once they were gone, I turned and grabbed my stuff, getting ready to leave. If they were -by some crazy chance- CIA, then I had to get out of here before they called back-up. If they can, with their faces burning like a burger over a grill. (Note to self: Don't fantasize on an empty stomach.) I left the house, lip gloss now back in its proper place, gloves left in the dirt. No way am I touching them now.

I aimed for the woods behind the house, and ran.

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><p><strong>That's it for now! Hope you like it! <strong>


	3. Ready or Not

**Before I get to the next chapter, here's the comments!**

**Essie: Thanks! I'm glad you thought so! :)**

**Paranormalcy: Yeah, they're not very bright, haha! **

**crosscrountrylover: I'm glad you liked it! Thanks for commenting!**

**Sorry it's been so long! This thing wouldn't let me upload! Ugh, dumb thing!**

**Alright, here's the next chapter! I hope you like it!**

**Disclaimer: I obviously don't own Gallagher Girl, Alley Carter does.**

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><p>It's been a week since Cammie left. A week since she left her report sitting on the case carrying Gilly's sword in the Hall of History, waiting for someone to pick it up and read its contents. It's been a week since school gave out, leaving all the Gallagher Girls to leave for their vacations for summer, worry grieving their hearts. Nobody knew where Cammie was. Nobody had seen her.<p>

This was definitely not how anyone at Gallagher Academy: School for Exceptional Young Women wanted to spend their summer vacations. Especially the juniors, whom had known her the longest. They were worried sick, looking everywhere for her, trying to find the master of hiding. The Chameleon.

But they wouldn't find her. Cammie knew how to hide when people were looking. She would hide in the most obvious, and not-so-obvious, of places. It's what she was so good at.

And Zach couldn't take it.

For once in his life, he was behind on something. He was the one that couldn't find her, that didn't know where she was, what she was doing. Was she with the Circle now? What were they doing to her? He hadn't spoken to his mother since the explosion, and he wasn't exactly planning on it, either. He hated his mom, who had tried to hurt Joe, a man who was like a father he never had. Hurt Cammie, a girl he could never truly have. Not once she found out.

He shook his head, looking out at the scenery of the sun rising, another night without Cammie being safe with her friends or family. She was gone, and he didn't know where.

He had beaten himself over that fact already, thinking he should have known she would do this, leave without him. She would think that it would keep everyone safe, including him. She wanted to protect him.

Which was stupid. He didn't need protecting. He needed to help protect _her. _That was his point, when they last talked.

Ever since Cam's mom read the report, she had questioned him, asking if he knew anything, where she was, when she left. He couldn't answer any of them with the answers she wanted to hear, because for the first time since meeting her, he didn't know anything. And it ticked him off.

Needless to say, Mrs. Morgan was going crazy, calling up her most trusted contacts and meeting with them confidentially, seeing if they could keep a look-out. She tried to keep it quiet so that, if the Circle still doesn't know she's gone, they wouldn't find out. She had to keep this confidential, asking all the students to keep their mouths shut, or face the wrath of Rachel Morgan, pro spy agent, mother of a missing daughter. Needless to say, they were doing as they were told. Or so he hoped, or _he _would have a thing or two to say to the girls of Gallagher Academy.

"Zach," a voice said behind him.

Speak of the woman, he turned to see Mrs. Morgan, leaning against the doors. "Yes?" he asked, his hands in his pockets. "Have you heard anything?"

"No," she said sadly, her eyes deep and tired. "Not yet."

He nodded, not expecting anything more. "Is Joe awake yet?"

"Not yet," she repeated, crossing her arms. "But this meeting isn't about him."

"What's wrong?" Zach asked, suddenly panicked. He thought they didn't know anything. What if the Circle found out and captured her, taking her in. "What happened?"

"Nothing that I know of," she said. "But that's not what this is about. Zach, I need your help. I need you to go and find Cameron. I'm at my wit's end right now, and I have no other choice."

Zach didn't show it, but inside his heart was beating faster in anticipation. He had been waiting for this. Ever since he came to Gallagher, especially since Cammie left, they hadn't left him alone. Even now, there were guards standing outside of the giant double doors and windows, making sure he didn't go anywhere. It was as if they all thought he would try to escape and try to find her.

Which, of course, he totally would. But who needed to know that? "Really?" he asked, his voice calm, collected.

She nodded.

"Alone?"

She hesitated, then nodded again. "I don't trust you all the way yet, Zach," she warned him, her eyes narrowing. "But right now, I don't have any other choice. You have to go and find her, then bring her _straight back_, do you understand? Don't stay any longer than needed, Zach. I read the report." She walked closer to him, until they were a few feet apart, her eyes glaring. "And if you simply 'run away' with my daughter, I will see to it that you are out of Gallagher Academy for good. Understood?"

He nodded. He would say anything to have the freedom of getting out of here and finding her himself. "Understood."

She nodded, looking him over. "You leave in one hour. Get your things ready to go."

He didn't have to be asked twice.

Walking quickly, then running as he left the room, he took the stairs two at a time up to his room, immediately grabbing a suitcase. _You've had your week, Gallagher Girl, _he thought, stuffing clothes in the bag. _Now, I'm going to find you, kill you, then bring you back and _never _let you go again._

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><p><strong>That's it! Hope you liked it! <strong>


	4. Author's Note

**~AUTHOR'S NOTE!~**

**Unfortuately, guys, this is good-bye to Cameron Morgan: Chameleon Extraordinare.**

**Before you guys kill me, hear me out! I seriously _love_ Gallagher Girls, believe me, I do! But I just couldn't finish this story! I don't know, _nothing _sounded right when I wrote it. I'm sorry for writing this, and then leaving you all hanging, but I'm not posting anymore chapters for this. I'm soo sorry!**

**HOWEVER: I am willing to have someone adopt this story! Please PM me if you want it, and I'll post another note on here to tell you guys who has this story now. Plus, I'm just not doing THIS STORY anymore! I've got other Gallagher Girl stories in my mind, and I'm thinking about doing those instead.**

**Again, I'm soo sorry to the people who have read this! :( I just can't do this story anymore.**

**Well, that's it, I guess. Please PM if you're interested!**

**-luvin'-music**


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